


Aerin and Broddun I

by Himring



Series: Aerin and Broddun [1]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Character Death, Female Friendship, Friendship, Gen, Reference to non-con, reference to violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-18
Updated: 2013-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-23 21:47:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/931436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Himring/pseuds/Himring
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of Aerin of the House of Hador and Broddun of the Easterlings, Brodda's sister.<br/>After the crushing defeat of the Edain in the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, the Easterlings have occupied Dor-lomin and Brodda has taken Aerin to wife by force.<br/>Aerin and Broddun find ways of dealing with it and with each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aerin and Broddun I

**Author's Note:**

> The story is a true drabble sequence: eight drabbles written in response to six weekly prompts in the Communication Challenge at the Tolkien Weekly community on LiveJournal. The sequence may be continued at a later date.
> 
> The content is non-graphic so far and will probably remain so, but non-con, violence and character death will all be just as clearly referenced as you would expect, given the canonical narrative.

**_Reading the Signs_**  
(Sign Language)  
  
Brodda has decided to call it marriage. Later on, that word will carry meaning, although it will never mean what it should. It cannot.  
Here and now, swarthy skin and rough black hair translate into nightmare, oppression, force. Any Easterling touch, any outstretched hand causes Aerin to recoil. Blindly, she flees to the outhouse, seeking refuge in noisome solitude.  
Slowly, regaining her vision, she learns to read other signs again: uneasily lowered female voices in the background, hesitant gestures of assistance. Broddun sets a piece of honeycomb in a wooden bowl on the table near Aerin’s elbow: sympathy without words.  
  
  
  
 _ **Turning and Turning Outward**_  
(Body Language)  
  
 _Morwen_  
  
It is some time before Aerin can slip away to see Morwen. Hastening through the dark, she fails to frame words in her mind but there is no need to speak: she opens the door, Morwen looks up from where she broods by the dying fire, Aerin throws herself on her knees and hides her face in Morwen’s lap. Morwen’s long, strong fingers clasp her shoulder.  
‘Brodda calls you wife’, Morwen says. ‘We have neither shield nor spear to defend our people. Use it as you can! Make the name serve you.’  
‘I lack courage,’ Aerin mumbles.  
‘You do not.’  
  
 _Broddun_  
  
Unnoticed herself, she saw Aerin slip out of the house after midnight. Almost, Broddun opened her mouth to cry out and stop her. She did not.  
But in the early morning Aerin returned, as quietly as she left. Today, she has changed. Always Aerin of the House of Hador moved with a dignity Broddun admired, even in fear and pain. Now, though, there is an air of new purpose. Before this, Aerin was turned inside, enduring. Now she lifts her chin and unobtrusively studies the faces of women and men.  
Aerin has plans. Unlike Brodda, Broddun, his sister, sees it.  
  
  
 ** _Learning the Language_**  
(Speech)  
  
Brodda speaks fluent Sindarin with a heavy accent, Broddun, his sister, only a few words of Adunaic. Aerin learns the speech of the Easterlings from Broddun. It involves a lot of pointing and dramatic gestures. Easterling speech has strange and difficult sounds; Aerin almost chokes trying to distinguish two of its consonants. Broddun bursts out giggling, looks remorseful and quickly hides her grin behind uplifted hands. Never mind—it is still a far kinder sound than the drunken jeers of Brodda’s warriors in the hall. Months later, Aerin remembers and understands what it was she said.  
She begins laughing, too.  
  
  
 _ **Mapping the Past**_  
(Drawing)  
  
 _Migration_  
  
Easterlings do not write, but they do keep records. Broddun draws Easterling signs on Edain parchment with an Edain pen, mapping the tribe’s trail through time and space to Dor-lomin. This symbol means: _Here fishing was good_ , that one: _Here we saw the white stag_. But the entries grow darker. _Here orcs ate three and eight_ , meaning: three people, eight cattle. _Lorfang died in ambush, killing three._ _In autumn, plague came from the east._  
Studying the map, Aerin sees how Morgoth’s creatures harried the tribe toward the Blue Mountains until they crossed. Does Broddun see that, too? Should she say?  
  
 _Battlefield_  
  
Anfauglith is a mess of black symbols. ‘Ulfast died’, says Broddun, pointing at her map. ‘Ulwarth died. Uldor died. Many died.’  
‘Close kin?’ asks Aerin, after a little hesitation.  
Broddun lifts first both hands together, then one hand and two fingers.  It takes Aerin a while to work out what she is saying:  seventeen clansmen died—that is how far Brodda was from succeeding to the chieftainship before the Nirnaeth.  
Aerin does not know what to say. Her father, Indor, is missing: presumed fallen at Serech beside Huor.  
Broddun is watching her face. ‘Bad battle’, she says forcefully. ‘All bad!’  
  
  
 _ **A Degree of Creative Accounting**_  
(Writing)  
  
Aerin keeps accounts. She writes words and numbers in a thick narrow ledger and shows them to Brodda and his advisers. It is a kind of magic, Broddun thinks. Aerin writes—and a small jar of honey disappears off the shelf in the pantry without leaving a trace. Aerin writes—and a chicken that was pecking in the yard vanishes into thin air.  
Morwen’s dependents will share meat and broth tonight. Asgon’s mother will have honey in her potion to soothe her racking cough.  
‘You will be caught’, says Broddun, touching Aerin’s wrist. ‘Give me that jar. I will go.’  
  
  
 ** _Don't!_**  
(Mind Reading)  
  
Broddun is to marry Lorgan? Aerin is horrified. So is Broddun.  
Aerin sits beside Broddun, who lies face-down on her bed, shuddering with suppressed sobs. Broddun, she thinks guiltily, is unlike other Easterling women—almost as one of the Edain.  
‘If it were not for me, you would have married him without hesitation,’ she says sadly, voicing that thought.  
Broddun hoists herself on her elbows.  
‘What do you know of me before you came?’ she hisses. ‘Do not presume to read my mind!’  
They take turns dropping hints into Brodda’s ear: Broddun is irreplaceable here! The marriage is narrowly averted.  
  



End file.
